23 July 2015

She sees the teenage girl on the train platform, standing in the pouring rain, clutching an infant in her arms. She boards a train and is whisked away. But she can't get the girl out of her head...

Heidi Wood has always been a charitable woman: she works for a nonprofit, takes in stray cats. Still, her husband and daughter are horrified when Heidi returns home one day with a young woman named Willow and her four-month-old baby in tow. Disheveled and apparently homeless, this girl could be a criminal—or worse. But despite her family's objections, Heidi invites Willow and the baby to take refuge in their home.

Heidi spends the next few days helping Willow get back on her feet, but as clues into Willow's past begin to surface, Heidi is forced to decide how far she's willing to go to help a stranger. What starts as an act of kindness quickly spirals into a story far more twisted than anyone could have anticipated.

My Thoughts

Pretty Baby is a book that I found very difficult to put down. It’s that addictive kind of reading where you can see the disaster coming and you just have to know NOW what is going to happen. Told in three perspectives, current day Heidi and her husband Chris and past Willow, each perspective is distinct and equally compelling, and although at times it’s disappointing not to know Willow’s current day thoughts and feelings, the gradual reveal of her history keeps the mystery element high.

Apart from the main plot between Heidi, Willow and the baby, there’s also a secondary plot between Chris and Heidi that adds an extra dimension to the storyline, and helps build the characters of Heidi and Chris even further. Unfortunately the plot felt rather familiar and predictable, possibly because I’ve read a few similar plots in the not-so-distant past.

Heidi is the successful mother of Zoe, and a kind hearted woman who is dedicate to helping people less fortunate than herself, which is how she becomes entangled with Willow – a homeless teen with a baby who appears at the train station that Heidi regularly travels past on her daily commute. Overwhelmed with concern and sympathy, Heidi makes the first steps to gaining Willow’s trust, eventually inviting her into her home, along with her tiny baby Ruby. As a character, I felt like I should have liked Heidi – she’s kind-hearted and open, and although she is quite an overprotective and overinvolved parent, her good intentions are clear to see. Getting into Willow’s head is much harder, given that her perspective is really only a gradual reveal of her past.

At times however it felt like the characters changed too drastically, too quickly. Not that it wasn’t particularly unrealistic, but more like Kubica was rushing to get to the point, when a little bit of time would have made the book feel a little more sinister and tense.

Would I Recommend It? Yes, if you like psychological thrillers, Pretty Baby has many of the elements that make psychological thrillers fun to read – there’s mystery, unreliable narrators, a side plot that doesn’t take away from the main story, and good characters.

Pretty Baby is a good psychological mystery thriller and I would definitely recommend it to fans of the genre, I’m just a little disappointed that the plot wasn’t as shocking to me as it could have been, and I really wanted to know Willow’s thoughts on the here and now.

29 June 2015

The Uninvited by Cat WintersExpected Publication: 11 August 2015 by William MorrowPages: 368 Genre/s: Historical FictionSource: Publisher for reviewFind it online: Goodreads ~ AmazonSynopsisTwenty-five year old Ivy Rowan rises from her bed after being struck by the flu, only to discover the world has been torn apart in just a few short days.

But Ivy’s life-long gift—or curse—remains. For she sees the uninvited ones—ghosts of loved ones who appear to her, unasked, unwelcomed, for they always herald impending death. On that October evening in 1918 she sees the spirit of her grandmother, rocking in her mother’s chair. An hour later, she learns her younger brother and father have killed a young German out of retaliation for the death of Ivy’s older brother Billy in the Great War.

Horrified, she leaves home, to discover the flu has caused utter panic and the rules governing society have broken down. Ivy is drawn into this new world of jazz, passion, and freedom, where people live for the day, because they could be stricken by nightfall. But as her ‘uninvited guests’ begin to appear to her more often, she knows her life will be torn apart once more, but Ivy has no inkling of the other-worldly revelations about to unfold.My Thoughts

There are three very
specific reasons why I wanted to read The Uninvited:

1) I fell in love with Cat Winters’ writing when I read In the Shadow of Blackbirds

2) It’s historical fiction which I adore.

3) It’s set during the Spanish Influenza epidemic of 1918.

The very first thing I realised when I started reading, is
that The Uninvited is in fact an adult novel – not a Young Adult novel, with
the main character, Ivy, being in her mid-twenties. But to me that’s neither here nor there, plus
I was curious to see how Winters transitioned to adult novels, this being her
first. The next thing I realised is that
I was instantly comfortable reading The Uninvited – it had the same lyrical,
ethereal style that I had enjoyed so much when reading In the Shadow of
Blackbirds.

As a main character, Ivy is far more complicated than she
first appears – she’s isolated from the outside world, and yet incredibly loyal
to her mother, almost assuming a motherly role herself with everyone she meets
during the course of the novel. However,
she’s quite headstrong and determined, and throws herself into everything with
all of her heart, including a new and unlikely relationship.

The Uninvited is also far more focused on Ivy, and the
historical fiction elements than the paranormal elements that the synopsis
eludes to – and that’s probably one of the reasons why I enjoyed The Uninvited
so much – the ghosts that Ivy sees are there in key moments throughout the
plot, but they aren’t as prominent as I had expected.

There is a lot more I want to say about The Uninvited, but
as the synopsis doesn’t really go into much detail about some of the aspects
that I really liked, I’m a bit hesitant to ruin the surprise for anyone else
that reads it, but it is a book that I highly recommend to readers of
historical fiction – the writing is beautiful, I lost myself in this book
constantly, and THINGS happen that I really hadn’t anticipated. Unexpected, captivating and a wonderful
mixture of things that I love, The Uninvited definitely lived up to my lofty
expectations.

Four planes. Three survivors. One message. It seemed like the end of the world... but it wasn't. This, however, just might be.

The extraordinary, unforgettable sequel to THE THREE - perfect for fans of The Shining Girls, The Passage and Lost.

Four days into a five day singles cruise on the Gulf of Mexico, the ageing ship Beautiful Dreamer stops dead in the water. With no electricity and no cellular signals, the passengers and crew have no way to call for help. But everyone is certain that rescue teams will come looking for them soon. All they have to do is wait.

That is, until the toilets stop working and the food begins to run out. When the body of a woman is discovered in her cabin the passengers start to panic. There's a murderer on board the Beautiful Dreamer... and maybe something worse.

My Thoughts

I really enjoyed Lotz’s The Three when I read it last year – the gradual, more subtle creepiness was an interesting departure from my normal slasher style horror reads, and I was impressed with the way that a seemingly straightforward plot had several unexpected twists and turns. Day Four is a loosely connected sequel, and I’d even be hesitant to call it a companion novel as the connections are so subtle that one could probably read and enjoy Day Four without having read The Three.

Day Four is set on a cruise ship in the Gulf of Mexico, which as a person who hates boats with a burning passion, is probably one of the creepiest possible settings, especially when communication with the outside world is cut off and the passengers are left to fend for themselves.

Told through multiple alternating perspectives, shit starts to get real on the Beautiful Dreamer pretty quickly – as soon as the passengers realise that something sinister is happening it turns into a mixture of every man for themselves with only a few characters resisting the urge to join the chaos – even when things start to get rather dark and creepy. However, I found it quite difficult to care about the characters, as just when I started to get to know them and see the story through their eyes, the perspective shifts were a little jolting and in the end I struggled to remember all of the different points of view – I would have probably enjoyed the book much more if there has been less perspectives, and less characters with similar storylines.

Although the setting itself is enough to give you nightmares, another problem that I had with Day Four is that the elements that are supposed to be creepy and disturbing instead came across as rather cheesy and not completely thought through. There’s also a lack of resolution around some of the more supernatural aspects that although unusual in their execution, left me feeling rather lost.

If you enjoy horror with a supernatural twist in a unique setting, and particularly if you enjoyed The Three, I can certainly recommend Day Four, there were just a few elements that didn’t really work for me, but overall it was a book that I found myself picking up without hesistation.

07 June 2015

The Sunday Post is a weekly meme hosted by Caffeinated Book Reviewer sharing news and new books for the past and coming weeks.Sooooo it's been a month since my last Sunday Post. It's not that I haven't accumulated any new books, but I've just not had the motivation to post them!

18 May 2015

Very early on, Kerrie-Ann begins to dream of the world beyond the rough council estate where she lives. Her father is nowhere to be found, her mother is a junkie, and she is left to care for her little brother. Clever, brave, and frighteningly independent, Kerrie-Ann has an unbreakable will to survive. She befriends her eccentric, elderly neighbor, who teaches her about butterflies, the Amazon, and life outside of her tough neighborhood. But even as Kerrie-Ann dreams of a better life she becomes further entangled in the cycles of violence and drugs that rule the estate.

Brilliant, brutal, and tender, The Killing Jar introduces a brave new voice in fiction. Nicola Monaghan's devastating prose tells an unforgettable story of violence, love, and hope.

My Thoughts

The Killing Jar is dark, gritty, and at times very confronting. When you have a main character growing up on an impoverished estate, surrounded by drugs, abuse and the never ending threat of violence, it was never going to be a book that filled me with warm, fuzzy feelings. At times it was almost overwhelmingly dark – and I could easily have switched to looking at pictures of kittens to cleanse my mind, but I found it a very difficult book to put down.

Kerrie-Ann grows up in an environment that perpetuates a cycle of drug abuse, young motherhood, broken families and a lifestyle that is almost impossible to break out of. Her mother is addicted to heroin, she’s never met her father, and at a young age is dragged into selling and taking drugs. However, she’s tough, she’s smart and the kind of character that I just couldn’t help but wanting something better for, and when her neighbour starts teaching her about entomology, she begins to dream of something bigger and better for her younger brother, Jon.

The highlight of The Killing Jar however is Monaghan’s writing. She tells a dark, twisted story with a bevy of unlikeable secondary characters with a touch of sympathy, without glamorising or excusing the almost constantly bad behaviour. Kerrie-Ann’s volatile relationship with her childhood ‘sweetheart’ Mark, is violent and tense, and yet there are moments when they seem a rather fucked-up kind of happy. It all feels very realistic, from the grim lives of those on the estate, the crime and the drugs and violence, through to Kerrie-Ann’s almost indestructible belief that she can change her life, despite all the roadblocks that are constantly thrown at her.

If you like dark, gritty books with a main character that make you want to simultaneously scream with frustration and sadness whilst cheering them on with your fingers crossed, check out The Killing Jar. Just don’t blame me if you need to bleach your eyes with pictures of bunnies and kittens afterwards.

At seventeen, overachieving Lane finds himself
at Latham House, a sanatorium for teens suffering from an incurable strain of
tuberculosis. Part hospital and part boarding school, Latham is a place of
endless rules and confusing rituals, where it's easier to fail breakfast than
it is to flunk French.

There, Lane encounters a girl he knew years ago. Instead of the shy loner he
remembers, Sadie has transformed. At Latham, she is sarcastic, fearless, and
utterly compelling. Her friends, a group of eccentric troublemakers, fascinate
Lane, who has never stepped out of bounds his whole life. And as he gradually
becomes one of them, Sadie shows him their secrets: how to steal internet, how
to sneak into town, and how to disable the med sensors they must wear at all
times.

But there are consequences to having secrets, particularly at Latham House. And
as Lane and Sadie begin to fall in love and their group begins to fall sicker,
their insular world threatens to come crashing down. Told in alternating points
of view, Extraordinary Means is a darkly funny story about doomed friendships,
first love, and the rare miracle of second chances.

My Thoughts

Extraordinary Means should not have been a book that got my
attention, if I’m completely honest. I’m
not the biggest lover of YA contemporary fiction, nor am I an emotional reader. It was only the fact that the plot centres
around teens with an incurable disease that made me want to read it, because I
am a complete sucker for anything that involves diseases or viruses.

And when I started reading Extraordinary Means, I wasn’t
completely sold. The story is told
through the alternating perspectives of Lane, who is completely focus on his
academic success, and Sadie who he briefly met four years before at summer
camp, and who has used being admitted to Latham as a way to reinvent herself as
the kooky, funny rule breaker. It took
me a good three or four chapters to begin to really warm up to them, and it was
only at about page 100 that I realised I was completely head-over-heels with
this book.

The relationship between Sadie and Lane feels right – it’s close and intense,
magnified even more so by the fact that they are able to spend so much time
together in a closed environment – in any other setting their relationship
would have felt a little too rushed, but with the possibility of death hanging
over them, it’s completely understandable and felt very realistic.

Although I loved the characters, and the fact that
Schneider is a certified heart-stomper is the fact that there was more to this
book than two seriously ill teenagers falling in love with each other – there’s
also growth in the characters, a lot of introspection about life and goals and
all the things that make us who we are, and it was delicious.

Perhaps the most telling thing is that I actually
highlighted passages because I thought they were beautiful and really resonated
with me, which I very rarely do. Here’s
a small selection:

‘There’s a difference between being dead and dying. We’re all dying. Some of us die for ninety years, and some of
us die for nineteen. But each morning
everyone on this planet wakes up one day closer to their death. Everyone.
So living and dying are actually different words for the same thing, if
you think about it.’

‘We mourn for the future because it’s easier than
admitting that we’re miserable in the present.’

‘It’s strange how we can lose things that are right
there. How a barrier can go up at any
moment, trapping you on the other side, keeping you from what you want. How the things that hurt the most are the
things we once had.’

Yes, these quotes are rather sad, but Extraordinary Means
is not just a sad book – although my heart is now rather worse for wear, by the
end I felt incredibly satisfied – I got so much more out of this book than I
had ever imagined, and it’s definitely one of the best YA contemporary novels I’ve
read.

13 May 2015

SynopsisAaron and Josh come from extraordinarily different backgrounds in small town America. Aaron is the only child of a fundamentalist preacher who fears and condemns the ways of the world outside their community. Josh is a jock who can only seem to express the feelings Aaron stirs in him by tormenting Aaron about how he looks and dresses. But one day, Josh’s world is turned upside down by a simple sentence spoken by Aaron, and he decides to get closer to Aaron.

Aaron assumes it is a new form of torture, but Josh persists: first a ride home, then talking with Aaron while he does his afternoon farm chores. Then Josh persuades Aaron’s father to let him participate in a scholastic event out of town one weekend. Josh pays a huge price for Aaron to attend, but that one weekend persuades Aaron to get free of his parents and attend college.

College doesn’t solve all their problems, though. Josh is horrified when a senior on campus seduces Aaron. He can’t believe Aaron has always been gay and he missed it—and missed getting to be Aaron’s first. But when Aaron finds out his boyfriend isn’t faithful, things go from tense to worse.

My Thoughts

Once again it’s a book with a main character who lives in an isolated religious community. It’s a theme that I’m always drawn to, and Swan Song for an Ugly Duckling had the added bonus of being a GLBT novel.

The synopsis is pretty accurate – Aaron has been bought up in a community lead by his father, and is grudgingly allowed to attend school where he is ridiculed for his hair, his clothes, his glasses, and generally ostracised by the other kids. Josh is one of his worst tormentors, until the moment that Josh realises that there’s more to Aaron than meets the eye, and he starts to befriend him.

The negative aspect of this book was the clumsiness of the writing. It never really feels like it flows properly, the dialogue is awkward and the second portion, when Aaron and Josh go to college changed the dynamic of the story so much that I felt like I was reading another book entirely.

However, the first part of the book I enjoyed very much – I loved seeing the friendship between Aaron and Josh grow and develop, and although the overwhelming message was about Aaron finding freedom from the restrictions of his upbringing, it was also interesting to see Josh grow as a character. Murphy does a good job of weaving those themes together, even making it possible to feel sympathy for the bully as well as the bullied.

Swan Song for an Ugly Duckling is a touching story about two young men finding their way through difficult times, an unusual friendship, and breaking free of the things that are holding them back. I enjoyed it quite a lot, despite the fact that at times the writing felt a little awkward and the feel of the story switched so quickly from the first to second half.